


Happy Xmas (War is Over)

by myticanlegends



Series: short fk fics [3]
Category: Falling Kingdoms Series - Morgan Rhodes
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Compliant, Christmas, F/F, F/M, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 00:17:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13155114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myticanlegends/pseuds/myticanlegends
Summary: A compilation of Christmas Fics I’ve done both on tumblr and on fanfic.net averaging from 200 to 1000 words from 2015 (brace yourself for those fabulous short drabbles) to now (hopefully much improved). Basically all the ships you could want celebrating the holidays in peace.Modern fics are from two years ago, canon from last year, and post-canon from now. Looking to the future.War is over... now it’s time for some of our favorite characters to fall in love and smile.





	1. Modern CleoxTheon

“Give me my eggnog back," Cleo shrieked with laughter, reaching up desperately to grab her glass away from her taller boyfriend.

“I'm checking to see if it's poisoned," Theon smiled innocently down at her.

Her heels were not helping as she jumped up, her fingers fumbling for the drink.

“It's not poisoned, you idiot," Cleo rolled her eyes, giving up.

Theon raised his eyebrow and took a small swig from her glass. He took a minute debating about the taste and it's possible poisoned content. "I don't think it's poisoned," he confirmed. "But I better drink the rest just to test.” 

Cleo gave him a glare that could kill an army and he chuckled before handing her back the beverage. 

"Thank you, good sir," she said sarcastically.

“Anything for you, my lady," Theon said solemnly, a small smile betraying his joke.

Cleo took a large gulp from her drink to hide the smile that was threatening to show itself to him. She did not think this was amusing. Nope. Not a bit. Well, maybe.


	2. Modern EmiliaxSimon

Emilia sat in the corner of the room, her nose buried in a book as she tried ignoring all the sounds in the room. She was right at the climax of the entire story and the hero was revealing their final play that would either turn for the worse or the better when- 

“Stop being antisocial,” a voice said behind her. 

Emilia sighed, slipping her bookmark into the books pages as she turned to look behind her. Her finger remained in their place on the page where she was reading.

"Simon,” she greeted.

Simon was leaning against the windows with his hand casually tucked in his pockets. "Merry Christmas.”

Emilia smiled and her book was placed carefully on her lap but not quite put away. "Merry Christmas," she said in reply.

With sparkling eyes Simon pulled himself away from the wall and extended his hand out to her, each movement minimizing the chance of her returning to her fantasy world. "Want to dance?" he asked. 

Her gaze shifted to her not yet forgotten book. "I should-“ 

“It's Christmas, Emilia," he interrupted lightly. "Dance with me” 

After a small hesitance the book was placed on the windows not to be touched until the next day. Emilia took Simon's hand and his smile was blinding as he lead her farther into the room.

Hands shifted, his to her waist and hers to his neck. The Christmas music drifted smoothly around them and the pair followed it just as gracefully. 

"Thank you," Emilia said softly, unsure what she was thanking him for but knowing he deserved to be thanked. Maybe it was just for their love. She was thankful for their love and he was the one person she could think of thanking for it. 

“No, thank you," Simon replied.


	3. Modern Ashicolo

“Hello, loves," Ashur greeted Nic and his sister Mira from where they were sitting on the couch with a couple other friends. 

“Hey, Ashur," Nic nodded.

The man slipped himself in between the two siblings, his arms resting behind them. “What are you lovely people talking about?”

“We're betting on how long it will take Lysandra and Jonas to get together," Mira explained. "I say it will happen within the week. Nic here says it'll take longer.”

Ashur raised his eyebrows at Nic and he shrugged. "They're both pretty stubborn." 

“I bet it will happen before midnight," Ashur announced boldly. 

“You're on," Mira grinned and Nic could practically see her counting her earned money already. 

“Great," Ashur said brightly before standing. "I'll get us some drinks, just to make the bet official. Nic, my good friend, why don't you come with. We wouldn't make your dear sister get her own, yes?” 

"Yes, Nic. You wouldn't, would you?" Mira said smugly. 

Nic stood with a groan and a roll of his eyes. "Of course not sis.” 

The two men made their way towards the kitchen, maneuvering their way around dancing pairs and a couple of chatting groups who hadn't managed to snag a couch. It was quiet between them. Nic was just about to start a conversation when Ashur suddenly stopped him pointing upwards. 

"Mistletoe," he whispered mischievously. 

Nic followed his gaze and sure enough there was a large clump of it pinned to the archway to the kitchen. His mind whirred frantically. Would they just pretend they hadn't seen it? Or would they actually kiss? 

He wasn't sure which he wanted more and it confused him. 

Before he could overthink it he felt a pair of lips on his own. Ashur. It was light but confident and addicting. But as soon as it started it was over leaving Nic blinking stupidly as Ashur winked at him before going off to get their drinks. 

Nic grinned stupidly and as much as he tried some other expression it wouldn't go away.

Ashur had kissed him. Nic didn't like boys but it was possible he liked this particular one a little more than he should.


	4. Modern LuciaxAlexius

Lucia was bored out of her mind. She sat on one of the bar stools near the wall watching couples dance and kiss under the mistletoe or just simply hold hands. That's what she wanted. Someone who she could do all of that stuff with. As if on cue a familiar handsome- no, gorgeous- looking man sat on the stool right next to her.

"Hello," she greeted politely. "Do I know you?” 

The man looked over and smiled. It was a simple smile but a beautiful one. "No, I don't believe you do," he said in return. "I'm Alexius.” 

“Lucia,” she told him. 

"Beautiful name," Alexius smiled again, extending his arm out to her for her to shake. "It's nice to meet you." 

“Nice to meet you too," Lucia said and she believed what she said. She shook his hand. 

It was quiet for a moment as they both considered each other. 

“Do you believe in a higher being such as a god or goddess?" Alexius suddenly asked and Lucia started. 

“What?" 

He carefully repeated the question.

"No, I don't," she replied after a beat of silence. "Why do you ask?" 

“Conversation starter," Alexius shrugged. "You look like you could use a good conversation... No one should be alone on Christmas.”

Lucia smiled. "Thank you." 

There was that beautiful smile again and she would do anything to see it once more.

"What if I told you that I once knew a goddess?" 

“I'd ask if you meant this literally.” 

“Absolutely. Her magic was beyond measure. I loved her, once upon a time. You look just like her.” 

Lucia looked at him oddly. A goddess? She felt she should be jealous of this past woman. She could also be wondering if he was only talking to her because of the supposed resemblance. But she had no such thoughts or feelings. It was probably because she had just met him. But maybe it had something to do with the fact she felt like she already knew him somehow... 

"Thank you?”

He was still smiling and her stomach was flipping, was he physically unable to stop smiling? It seemed like it and she didn't really mind.

“It's a compliment," Alexius reassured her. "I did after all just compare you to a goddess.”

Yes, this was going to be a good year, Lucia thought.


	5. Modern Josandra

Jonas and Lysandra had somehow found themselves in a situation. A game of monopoly had been sitting on one of the tables and now they both seemed to believe they would win.

“Ha!" Lysandra exclaimed as she moved her small shoe piece. "I've got Boardwalk." 

“Well, I have Park Place," Jonas countered amusedly as he took his turn. "And you can't do anything with Boardwalk until you have it.”

Lysander smirked at him challengingly. “I wouldn’t underestimate my bargaining skills if I were you.”

“I wouldn't underestimate mine," Jonas replied. "Speaking of which, as it is my turn, I believe I have the rights to try and make a deal for myself." 

“Try me," Lysandra said, leaning back against her chair. 

“I will trade both my orange properties for Boardwalk.” 

Lysandra yawned. "No thank you." 

"Come on, Lys! You'd have a monopoly with this deal!" Jonas exclaimed. 

"So would you. Highest monopoly on the board actually.” 

"Orange is more landed on," Jonas prompted.

Lysandra looked contemplative. “True. But no.”

Jonas' expression turned downright devious and Lysandra almost shuttered. "What if I add in a kiss?" 

She couldn't actually agree to this, right? If she did, there was a high chance that she would be doomed by the time she made it around the board again. Then again... she was always good at maneuvering her way around. 

“Fine.” 

So they kissed. 

It was just part of the game, it didn't mean anything. Why would it? When they pulled away Jonas grinned handsomely at her and slid her the two cards he had offered to trade. And she slid him Boardwalk. Her mind was no longer on the game and she forced it to return.

Houses slowly piled onto the property spaces and a couple rounds later Lysandra landed on her old Boardwalk property and was forced to hand over all her money and mortgage almost all of the rest of her spaces. She found she didn't even mind especially when Jonas was holding her hand under the table.


	6. Modern Unrequited Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I used to think I was funny. God help them.

Two men could be found leaning against a back wall looking miserable and paying each other no mind. Magnus was watching a blonde haired girl across the room laughing with a handsome knight-in-shining armor looking man. Felix was watching a pile of curly hair play monopoly with one of his handsome friends.

"Unrequited love, am I right?" Magnus slurred, noticing Felix for the first time. 

It was clear both of them had had a little too much alcohol. 

"What a pain," Felix agreed.

"What are two handsome men like us doing drinking ourselves into a corner!? On Christmas of all day!" Magnus continued in true drunken splendor. 

Felix nodded in approval with a few grunts. It was quiet as they appraised each other. 

“Maybe we should…” Felix faded off drunkenly, gesturing between the two of them. 

"What?" Magnus stared blankly. 

“Maybe-“ Felix tried repeated before giving up. "Never mind.” 

Magnus raised his eyebrow. "Maybe," he said. 

They inched closer and closer and closer but they never seemed to meet. Until they did and the instant they met both of them jumped away as if they had been shocked, both wiping their mouths. 

"Never again," Magnus spit out. 

Felix was too busy trying to rid his mouth of any possible germs to answer. "We never speak of this," he said once he finished.

"Agreed.” 

Felix went off on his own and Magnus grabbed another alcohol drink hoping that maybe he would wake up with no memory of this particular Christmas.


	7. Canon NerissaxAmara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From now on there will be sublte spoilers for Crystal Storm or Frozen Tides. Be warned.

There was a part of Amara that would always hate Christmas. It was a holiday that had always seemed to exist in Kraeshia, a celebration that was ancient and if the legends were to believed, from another world. 

For her, it was a present of spitefully pretty ribbons from her eldest brother and nothing from her father. A book from Ashur if he wasn't on his travels and if he was, she'd wait a month to receive it. It was sitting through a family dinner where rarely did anyone bothered to include her. Her grandmother didn't believe in Christmas, scoffed at the idea, and taught Amara the same.

Evidently, it had haunted her to Mytica where the people celebrated the same dreaded bringer of gifts and “cheer”. 

It was so horribly cold here, Amara thought miserably and she made her way to her quarters. At least now she was empress. How was that for a Christmas gift?

“Empress,” Nerissa greeted without turning her back as she stoked the fire by Amara’s favorite chair.

Amara didn't ask how she knew who it was- Amara was the only one permitted to enter the room. With the exception of her handmaiden, of course.

Her heart warmed a little at the prepared fire though it was nothing to do with the heat radiating from the flames. 

“Don't you have somewhere better to be?” Amara asked as she sunk into her chair. “It is a holiday.”

It wasn't as if she could dismiss such a large celebration. People had celebrated Christmas for generations. Cancelling would be self destructive in her plans and would tip the troops who already despised her into rebellion. No, she couldn't ignore it. So here she was, alone while everyone else celebrated the holidays like every other year. Being empress hadn't changed that. At least before she had Ashur before… well, before she killed him.

“No,” Nerissa said as bluntly as ever. “In fact, this is exactly where I mean to be.”

“Amusing an empress on Christmas?” Amara asked, raising a delicate brow.

“Better an empress than a fool,” Nerissa shrugged, looking away from the fire to match her stare.

Amara studied her handmaiden carefully. A sharp jaw and short dark hair with plain beauty seeming opposite of Amara’s perfectly sculpted and elegant features she had worked to build. Amara absentmindedly wondered why she had only brought men to bed before. 

“Huh,” she huffed proudly, pretending not to be amused by the retort or let it get to her head.

Nerissa smiled anyway and stood. For a brief moment, Amara disappointedly thought she was going to leave. But she only took a bottle of wine from the table. With graceful fingers, she poured Amara a glass and when she moved to set the bottle down, Amara interrupted the proceedings.

“Pour yourself a glass as well. If you're wasting your Christmas on me you might as well get something,” she felt herself say.

Oh my goddess, was this how Ashur had started when meeting that insufferable red-head? She hated it. And yet…

Nerissa smiled and tucked some of her hair behind her ear, drawing Amara to the movement instead of her thoughts. Was that nervousness behind the movement? Fear? Insecurity? Amara couldn't imagine it to be any of those. Though it was too short to tie back, she noted. It was very possible it was just in her way.

Their fingers brushed as a goblet was exchanged and Nerissa sat on the carpet near the fire, at Amara’s feet.

“Well,” Amara said expectantly. She couldn't afford to care for anyone at the moment, even if it was just admiration of the shape of their faces. “Amuse me.”

Nerissa took a sip of her wine before obliging. “There's a traditional Christmas story in the country I come from…”

She wasn't Ashur but she would do perfectly. At least there were some people who didn't let her hate Christmas.


	8. Pre-Canon GaiusxElena

A long time ago, there was a story of a boy and a girl. Most stories began like that- with a boy and a girl. A prince met a princess and they lived happily ever after. 

Gaius no longer believed in these stories much to his mother's delight. 

Instead the story of a boy and girl transformed into a story of a boy and girl that didn't last. The boy and the girl fell in love. But then the girl met another boy and married him instead. The first boy became the heartless king of a barren, cold country.

There once was a time where Elena had visited his castle. When the two of them were in love and giggling as they avoiding his mother in the hallways. Gaius had invited Elena into the gardens and wrapped her in a Limerian red cloak due to the harsh winter weather.

She had grinned at him and the weather didn't bother either of them.

“I got you something,” he said as she sat down on a bench near the large maze. “For Christmas.”

Elena raised her eyebrows playfully. “Did you now? I feel bad, I didn't get you anything in return.”

“Not necessary,” Gaius assured her, pulling her closer to him on the bench as she giggled. “You being here is enough.”

“I almost didn't come,” she admitted. “Your mother… she doesn't like me all too well.”

“She'll learn to manage,” Gaius said and Elena scoffed as she used his arms around her as a shield from the cold.

“What did you get me?” she asked eventually.

Gaius turned to face her and pulled a sheathed gold dagger from his cloak. It was offered to her through gloved fingers and a inviting smile. 

“It's beautiful,” Elena breathed as she relieved it from its covering to study its curves and edges. She looked up at Gaius and smiled- the brightest thing in Limeros for miles. “A dagger, Gaius? How romantic,” she teased.

Gaius was not offended. “Everyone needs something to be able to defend themselves with,” he explained genuinely, almost cautious. “I would hate to see you hurt… I was hoping perhaps you would let me teach you how to use it…?”

Elena looked put off guard. “But Gaius,” she said with a laugh that came from not knowing how else to react. “I'm hardly in any danger, am I.”

Gaius thought of his mother and was not sure. He thought of the probability that one day Gaius would not be there to protect her. “You don't have to use it. Just promise you'll keep it on you, just in case.”

Elena smiled with a glimmer of understanding amidst the confusion and gently took the dagger from his hands. “Thank you,” she hugged him, her breath on his ear. “I love it.”

“And I love you,” Gaius replied and there went that smile again threatening to melt away all the snow and the cold.

Now it was Christmas time again, as it happened every year, and the memory was a dull ache in every one of his bones. It had been at least twenty years and yet… his hand slammed down on the counter in frustration and although it was not what he intended to signal, a pint was set in front of him. Gaius drained it.

So many years and sacrifices to make it all go away and yet why was it that he could still feel so prominently?


	9. Canon Ashicolo

Nic was ignoring him. Which was fair, Ashur supposed since he had watched him die. Quite possibly he was really the only one in this country that had cared about his death. And now here Ashur was on the deck of a ship leaving no one with the option to run except into the endless ocean around them. 

It was easier this way, Ashur had decided. Less chance for Nic to be hurt.

And yet he watched from a distance as Nic interacted with his friends. They would tease each other occasionally on the long journey ahead of them and it occurred to Ashur that his laugh had never been directed towards him. He wasn't even sure if he had gained a real smile. Their relations, romantic or otherwise, had been so short in dangerous circumstances. Still, Ashur wasn't oblivious enough to ignore the fact that Nic cared for him in return.

It made their mutual dance around each other like soft bruises to his heart.

It was for the best but it didn't mean Ashur didn't crave his company. It would have been better if Nic had yelled and fought like he had on that last boat they had found themselves on. He wondered if Nic was ever reminded of that, when they had conspired against his sister as if they were friends or maybe more. Probably not. He wasn't trapped in the bunk of the ship this time.

Ashur felt like he was although he could head on deck anytime he wanted.

“There's Christmas celebrations in the dining hall,” a voice sounded from his doorway. “It's not much but they broke open the last of the wine. We’ll be arriving in Mytica in a week or so.”

Ashur opened his eyes from his meditative state to see a mess of red hair and freckles peering cautiously down at him. Nic.

“Thank you, Nicolo,” he sighed, pulling himself to his feet. “But I think I'll stay down here. Your friends don't seem to trust me.”

“You died,” Nic stated for what felt like the millionth time. “And you're the brother of the woman currently on the throne of the Kraeshian empire and now Mytica. You don't seem very trustworthy at the moment.”

“May I remind you that I helped you against my sister before?” Ashur offered but Nic ignored it.

“What price is there for magic that raises you from the dead?” he asked.

Ashur knew they both had an idea of what it took. But admitting it out loud, to Nic, seemed like it would ruin what little connection they had forever. He didn't answer.

Nic sighed and sat down awkwardly on the edge of the ship’s shallow cot they called a bed. Ashur raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you not going to join the Christmas celebration yourself?”

This time it was Nic who didn't speak.

“Ah,” Ashur said as soon as the realization hit him. “Jonas sent you to keep an eye on me.”

“Yep,” Nic verified and Ashur found he didn't really mind. He had nothing to hid and if in the process of gaining trust, if meant Nic would join him in his room every once in awhile, Ashur didn't care.

“All right,” Ashur agreed. 

He sat on cot beside him. Their legs touched. Nic glanced down between them but didn't move. Ashur felt his heart lifting every moment Nic stayed.

“I want to trust you,” Nic said with another sigh that filled the room as he struggled to explain himself. He seemed to find no words except, “but I can't.”

Ashur understood and said so. Nic smiled sadly at that. It was the closest thing Ashur had gotten to a smile from him since boarding the ship.

It really was better for them both if Nic didn't trust him and stayed away. Ashur thought of the man who had died in order for Ashur to live. He thought of those he had outright killed for his family. His family itself was destroyed with only Amara left and responsible. Ashur didn't want to know what could happen to Nic if the pattern continued.

Still, in brief moments like this, he couldn't pull away.

“So, Christmas,” he started. “How do you usually celebrate?”

“Drinking,” Nic said dryly though his eyes suggested that was only recently the case.

“Drinking then!” Ashur exclaimed, getting up and pulling a bottle from a drawer. “Let's begin with that.”

There was the barest hint of a smile of Nic’s lips as he raised his eyebrows. “Hand me the bottle,” he said, gesturing towards it. “I'm going to need a lot to get through Christmas with you.”

“You could leave,” Ashur suggested, suddenly aware Nic might be uncomfortable in his bunk with nothing but the two of them, a bottle of alcohol, and a cot.

Nic frowned but didn't leave. Instead he raised the bottle to his mouth and Ashur watched his throat bob as he swallowed. The bottle was then passed to Ashur who only paused a second before taking a gulp as well.

He was all too aware that the bottle had just touched lips he wanted to kiss and the man he wanted to kiss was sitting on his bed on Christmas. Keep him at arm's length, his mind reminded him. The rest of him ignored it for now, just for today, because it was Christmas and Nic was the only person he could think of celebrating it with.

He would make Nic smile, or even laugh, yet.


	10. Canon Josandra | LysxFelix

“Do you ever wonder what happens to a person when they die?” Felix asked to the empty air in front of him.

He and Jonas lay on the deck of their ship headed back to save Mytica. The air was crisp and cool but the bottle of Palesian wine between them kept them warm. Here on the ocean the sky was brighter that Felix had ever seen it and the stars shined.

“Cheerful,” Jonas snorted. “I'm feeling the festivity.”

Though really, who could blame Felix. As an assassin he wouldn't be surprised if he had killed more men than anyone else on the ship combined. The question had haunted him for years. A ghost or spirit, perhaps, would be most worrying considering he could name quite a few people who might have evil vendettas against him beyond the dead. 

However, if there were spirits, it meant Lys might not be trapped in the everafter. She could be here, watching them both, looking down on them with that signature roll of her eyes.

Idiots, she would have scoffed but she would have smiled as well.

“There was a legend I heard while in Auranos…” Jonas said thoughtfully. “That those who die become stars.”

It was a much better idea than Felix would have come up with. Fanciful and optimistic. It was hardly something he could picture himself believing.

“You think so?” he asked. 

Jonas was silent a minute. “I'd like to believe so… Lys-”

Whatever he was going to say was swallowed up by the mood. A much too somber mood for two men drunk on Christmas night. 

“I loved her,” Jonas decided to say.

Felix couldn't argue that fact. Jonas had loved her… eventually. She had loved him. Felix could say so many things about her death, about Jonas, but it wouldn't make a difference. Still, being petty, although didn't make him feel better, made Jonas feel worse and Felix wasn't noble enough to spare his feelings.

“So did I,” he said. “But she decided to love a fool like you.”

“Yeah…” Jonas released a large breath as if he'd been holding it since long before Felix had ever come into his life.

“A merry Christmas, isn't it?” he said sarcastically after a minute. 

“I've had worse,” Felix couldn't help but comment and to his surprise Jonas laughed.

“I bet you have.”

They let conversation fade after that as they both looked up at the numerous stars and the darkness ahead of them. Felix wondered if it was really possible that Lys was one of those twinkling stars above- so far away but lighting their way. He wondered if Jonas was thinking the same. 

What a sad turn of fate that they would both fall for the same girl only for her to end up dead. Fate had never been on Felix’s side.

Merry Christmas, he thought towards the sky. Towards Lys. We won't forget you.

For a second Felix could have sworn he heard a reply.

Oh goddess, he was so drunk right now.


	11. Canon Magneo

“It’s Christmas," Cleo remembered in surprise as she and Magnus sat on the rocks of Limeros. 

They didn’t dare set foot near the castle with Amara now in control. They were stuck here, away from their feather beds or any belongings that might prove them to be royalty. It was fine, Cleo supposed. It was hardly a setback though not the comfort she was used to. It was only until they reached the nearest town. 

"It is,” Magnus agreed, just as surprised. 

"We should do something,“ Cleo suggested.

Magnus scoffed from where he was grooming their horses on their break. "Do what? We’re in the middle of nowhere." 

Cleo glared and that seemed to tame Magnus enough for him to put the brush away and sit next to her. "Sorry,” he apologized. “Before this year I would always spend Christmas with Lucia with large feasts and elaborate gifts. I don’t see how we can do that out here…”

Cleo didn’t admit that her holidays were much the same. The palace would host events and serve so much food they’d have to be used as leftovers. Afterward, she, her father, and Emilia would walk around Auranos for the sake of fresh air and to greet the commoners. There was nothing from her royal life that could possibly happen here in the middle of Limeros with no village in sight.

"It feels wrong to just let the day pass,“ she said softly. 

"I didn’t say we would,” Magnus answered. 

Cleo looked up at him and he pressed a kiss to her lips. 

“Merry Christmas,“ he wished her. 

"Merry Christmas,” she smiled, drawing her arms around his neck to pull him closer.

"Do you know what we could do?“ Magnus asked when he was barely centimeters away. "To celebrate?" 

"Hmm?” Cleo hummed curiously. 

“This,” he said before kissing her again. “And this-” a kiss to her nose, “this-” a kiss to her cheek, “this-” a kiss to her jaw, “and this." 

He continued making his way down her neck and Cleo let out a happy sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. 

"We could,” she agreed, pulling his head up so their lips could meet again. “Or-” she pulled away. "We could find a proper bed."

Magnus grumbled but pulled himself away towards the horses. "We better get on with it then. Plenty of miles until the nearest town.”

Cleo felt the lack of his presence right next to her like a sudden rush of cold and almost wished she hadn’t stopped him. Still, she pulled herself off the rock and swung onto her horse, smiling sweetly at him. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Let’s get on with it then,” she said. “The faster the better.”

She turned before she could see his reaction, whether a scowl or a grin, and started her horse off at a trotting pace. Soon Magnus rode up next to her. 

“I hope you know what you do to me,” he grumbled when she looked over at him. 

You do the same to me, she thought but she only smirked and she urged her horse faster.


	12. Post-Canon Magneo

Smooth white snow spread across the castle landscape making the land shimmer and draw Cleo’s attention like it never had before. Her time in Limeros had never been a vacation. But looking out her balcony, the same one she had given her speech to the people of Mytica a year ago, she found that maybe she could enjoy the cold.

Magnus looked up from his notebook and followed her gaze out the window.

“Have you ever been ice skating?” He asked.

Cleo blinked and turned her eyes away from the untouched layer of snow. “No? What is that?”

“Ice skating?” Magnus asked, amused. “It’s just skating but on ice.”

Cleo hummed and then looked out the window again. “Will you teach me?”

Magnus blinked and then set down his notebook. “I don’t know, princess. Do you think you can handle it?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“It’s queen now,” Cleo reminded him haughtily. “Of course I can.”

“You’ll always be princess to me,” Magnus teased, but gathered Cleo in his arms anyway and twirled her to her feet. “Change into warmer clothes. I’ll get our skates.”

A half hour later, Cleo found herself outside in the snow with hand muffs, a thick scarf wrapped fashionably around her neck, and a fur hat that covered her ears. Her dress was blue and she had Nerissa arrange it so it no longer scraped the ground. Magnus greeted her with his own winter clothes and hands holding up pairs of strange boots with blades on the bottom.

“Are those safe?” Cleo asked cautiously.

“Only if you use them right,” Magnus deadpanned. 

Cleo huffed, her breath fogging in the air, and snatched a pair from his hands before he could raise them out of her reach. It took her a minute to examine the laces but she had tried on enough various fashions that they weren’t hard to strap onto her feet once sitting on an ice cold bench.

When she attempted to stand, she immediately felt the thin blades replacing the solid bottoms of her feet, and found it was hard to steady. She felt like this could have been similar to those jester tricks of wobbling on a rope held a foot from the ground. She wasn’t used to this little holding her up.

Cleo felt something on her arm steadying her and looked over to find it was Magnus, standing as if he was born on skates. “Got it?” He asked snuggly and Cleo rolled her eyes.

“Of course.”

Magnus clearly didn’t believe her but time had made him kind and he no longer commented. Instead, he lead her on her sloppy feet to the edge of the ice of a frozen pond designed in the middle of their gardens. 

“It’s easier to glide than step,” he assured her before stepping on. He seemed both smug and sincere as he held out a hand.

Cleo was tempted not to grab it. To prove that she could do this. But as she took a step onto the ice, she immediately felt the lack of grip beneath her feet and held on tightly to his hand. Magnus laughed and Cleo found she wasn’t offended by it. Instead, she placed her other foot on the ice, looked up at him, and smiled.

Magnus smiled back. “Ready, princess?”

“Ready,” she assured him.

And then he began to pull. Slowly at first, grasping onto her fur-lined gloves, as her shoes let her glide forward after him. Magnus skated backwards, still smiling, and Cleo was amazed at how long it must have taken him to practice in order to move on the ice with the casual grace he did with almost everything else.

“Do I just…?”

One foot after the other. She glanced down to follow his own foot movement. When she wobbled, Magnus was already helping her remain upright. She could barely see her own boots from underneath her skirt but the more she practiced with Magnus’ lead, the better she could feel their balance, how to shift their weight when following him in a slow circle.

“I’m going to let go now,” Magnus warned.

Cleo took a deep breath, met his eyes, and nodded. Then his hands slide out of hers and she was moving on her own across their frozen pond, one foot gliding after the other. She couldn’t help but grin. And then she began to laugh. She laughed with joy so much that she found her feet slipping out from underneath her with lack of focus and air burst out of her as she fell to the ground.

“Cleo!” Magnus exclaimed, rushing to her side where he had been unable to catch her before. 

When Cleo pulled herself up to sitting position, her bottom aching from where it hit the ice, she took one look at his worried expression before laughing again and holding out her hands. “I’ll get it,” she assured him.

“I know you will,” Magnus smiled. Despite the cold, Cleo found that his smile was warm.


	13. Post-Canon Jocia

Jonas never quite knew what to do about Lucia’s baby. On one hand, he had been there when she had delivered it and also he had named her after Lys. On the other, Lucia had killed Lys in the first place, was a magical sorceress, and her daughter was probably also very magical. Then again, apparently Jonas himself wasn’t quite normal.

But here they were: him, Lucia, and little baby Lyssa eating dinner in the Limeros castle. It wasn’t where he had pictured himself being in very few years after his brother had been murdered and he started a rebellion but he found he didn’t mind the castle life.

He also didn’t mind Lucia as much as he should have. In the end, they were both teenagers who had been through a lot, made a lot of mistakes, and ended up here. Wherever here was and however he had found himself invited to eat with the princess and her child for the holidays. Perhaps she was lonely. Jonas shared a room with Felix in the west wing but even then he could feel the loss of Lys, Brion, and all his other friends he had lost in moments of quiet. 

Here was another thing he found himself having in common with the prophesied sorceress. They had both lost someone they had loved; someone they thought they could probably have loved for the rest of their life. Both now embodied in the small body of a baby girl.

Lyssa winced at the minced carrots being fed to her and almost spat them out causing Jonas to suddenly laugh.

“She knows her foods.”

“She needs to eat carrots, she’s a growing girl,” Lucia said, casting Jonas a glare that clearly said, don’t parent my child. It had lost all of its sting by the time it reached him.

“I survived without carrots,” Jonas shrugged. “And I turned out perfectly fine.”

Lucia’s lips twisted upward in a silent laugh as if he was telling a joke. “Mhm,” She hummed. “I ate carrots and I turned out to be the most powerful sorceress in Mytica.”

“So sorry, your highness,” Jonas returned with a sarcastic tone but a real smile. “I forgot that your mighty powers hail from carrots.”

Lucia scoffed but her smile turned into a genuine laugh as she moved to feed her daughter again. “Eat your carrots too.”

“Thanks for the hint,” Jonas said but he was already eating them. This was possibly the fanciest meal he had the pleasure of eating so far and he wasn’t leaving anything on the plate.

Lucia finished feeding Lyssa before turning towards Jonas again. “I, um… my family has this tradition. For the holidays. We were never much for celebrating as a family but we always gave away presents.”

“My family would save a bottle of our finest wine and spent the night telling stories,” Jonas added, unsure of what he was supposed to contribute to her story. He held up his own glass of wine, “So cheers to the finest wine I’ve had so far.”

“That’s my family’s last bottle of your family’s wine,” Lucia said amused.

Jonas looked at his glass with new interest. He wondered if it was their last bottle of wine that had survived after everything had gone wrong. Suddenly, he felt more at home than he had in a long time. When he took another sip, he savored it. It tasted the same. Familiar. “I didn’t notice.”

“I thought you’d might like it,” Lucia shrugged- was that a bit of shyness in her gaze?

“Thanks,” Jonas grinned.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, my family gives presents and I wanted to give you one.”

“I’m not part of your family.”

“You might as well be.”

Jonas studied her for a minute before putting down his silverware. “All right,” he agreed. “But I didn’t get you anything. And this wine is enough.”

“But you’ve done so much for me,” Lucia disagreed. She stood, taking Lyssa with her and attaching her to her hip as she walked. She gestured for Jonas to follow and without any other idea of what to do, he followed.

When they reached the room they were looking for, Lucia pulled open a drawer and removed a dagger. Carefully, she held it out for him. “I had it made. I know there is no more danger but Magnus and I agreed that we’d like you do be the captain of our guard.”

“Magnus agreed?” Jonas asked, taking the dagger with amusement.

“He acquiesced,” Lucia corrected but she smiled as well.

Jonas placed the dagger on the belt at his side and grinned. “Well, as long as he was begrudging about it.”

Then to both of their surprise, he leaned in for a hug, being careful not to crush the baby at her side. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Lucia shrugged but her cheeks were slightly pink in embarrassment or something else.

Not known for being subtle, and unwilling to start now, Jonas kissed her. Lucia started in surprise but then smiled and leaned into him. It was an even better present than the dagger.


	14. Post-Canon Ashicolo

Fire flickered across the dark starry sky. There was a circle of warmth around the area in which the fire had been carefully lit illuminating the soft layer of snow around it as it melted into the grass. Nic sat on a log within it’s peaceful glow and by his side sat a prince.

The fire crackled again as Nic watched. He had set the fire himself with a flick of his fingers that left a spark flying into the tinder. He tried not to remember what the ability had done when he was possessed by the Kindred but having this lingering ability, even just a small flicker, reminded him that now he had control. Fire was fierce and hot but it could warm and comfort.

The silence itself was comforting in the cold winter night.

Finally, Ashur pulled a flash from his tunic and held it out to Nic. Nic drank and passed it back. When Ashur drank, Nic watched and tried not to think of how his lips had just been where Asher’s were.

“It’s so calm out here compared to the castle,” Nic commented when they were both looking back towards the fire.

“Is this why we meet out here?” Ashur asked curiously. It was the way he asked that Nic knew that, despite their differences, Ashur would accept any answer he gave.

“The castle is always busy,” he said. “I’ve lived in one since I was nine, when my parents died, but it never felt like home. Mira and I used to sneak out at night and lay in the gardens until sunrise because no one else was there. It was the only thing we had that Cleo didn’t share.”

“I never spent much time in my castle. I never liked it either,” Ashur shrugged. “There was too much else in the world to see.”

“Explains why you aren’t complaining about your fancy pants getting wet,” Nic teased. “Finally stooping down to peasant level with me, eh?”

“Nicolo,” Ashur said seriously. “I don’t think of you as a peasant.”

“Yeah sure, I’m not anymore but-“

“I never did.”

“Not just a bumble in the snow with some lowly guard then?” Nic laughed as a way of relieving the unusually blunt way Ashur spoke.

But Ashur fixed him with a steady gaze, he features illuminated by orange in the dark, and assured him anyway, “I’ve never been more in love with anyone.”

Nic’s pale skin, already pink from the cold, warmed and he turned his face towards the fire as an excuse. It was strange, he thought, how a year ago he had been in love with Cleo. 

When he looked towards the Limerian castle, he could hear a cello in the distance and silhouettes in the window. “Are Cleo and Magnus having a party?”

Ashur nodded. “They’ve been planning all week while you’ve been hiding away at the bar. Something about a holiday?”

Nic wracked his brain for an idea of what day it was. When he came up with it, he then evidently decided what was worth mentioning was, “Our celebration of the goddesses. Auranos used to hold a huge gala every year to celebrate. We’d order gallons of the finest Paelsian wine and drink it like pigs. Cleo once kissed me a couple years back at one of those.”

“Oh, did she?” Ashur asked, amused, and Nic remembered who he was talking to and that it probably wasn’t smart to mention someone he had previously kissed to the person he was currently kissing.

“Umm...” Nic started.

But Ashur laughed before he could figure what he would say, “It is fine, Nic. I’ve kissed many men before I kissed you. It doesn’t affect my feelings for you now and whoever you kissed then doesn’t either.”

Nic found himself turning red again and cast his gaze towards Ashur again. “How are you so honest about this?”

“You almost died. Twice,” Ashur said softly. “I thought I lost you and once I learned I hadn’t, you were taken away again. What’s the point in being subtle if it could happen again?”

“I lost you too,” Nic commented.

“Exactly,” Ashur said, cracking a smile. “And yet here I am.”

Nic hummed and leaned forward to give Ashur a kiss. It was soft and casual in a way that Nic thought he might never get. It never failed to overwhelm him with the idea that he was kissing Ashur Cortas, emperor of Kraeshia, while he was still Nic Cassian, best friend of a princess-now-Queen. At least now they had found a balance; sitting under the stars away from any expectations or crowds.

“Don’t explorers find their way using the stars?” Nic asked when he pulled away, reaching for a conversation.

“Would you like me to show you?” Ashur asked, immediately catching on. 

Nic nodded and Ashur drew him closer to his side under the pretense of better pointing out constellations. Nic felt the warm presence pressing into his side and decided he didn’t mind. Instead, he followed Ashur’s gaze up to the stars and listened.


End file.
